


Light the fire in me that I put out

by chailattemusings



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex with Gavin would never be like sex with anyone else, and he works hard to keep his special anatomy under wraps. But Michael catches his eye, and soon enough they're in bed together and Michael can't believe what he sees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light the fire in me that I put out

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [an old-fashioned notion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/826875) by [callmearcturus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearcturus/pseuds/callmearcturus). 



> This is based on the headcanons from crotchmonsters.tumblr.com and the RTvengers series at http://archiveofourown.org/series/57073. I wrote it as a birthday gift for the author of The Hunters Initiative, who asked for wiggly woos. This story reverses the situation of the tentacle biology between Michael and Gavin.

There was a reason Gavin kept his love life private. And that reason was Michael fucking Jones.

Michael Jones, who was now staring at him in disbelief, mouth open but none of his usual swears coming out. He could only gape at the sight of Gavin lying on his bed, cast in the soft lamp light and naked as the day he was born. There had been a lot of staring that day, too.

But not for the same reason Michael was staring. Gavin shrank back, scurrying up the bed. “I— we can do this another time, Michael, it’s— it’s fine.” His voice scrapped in his throat, anxiety rising like bile the longer Michael sat there, staring. Michael was naked, too, but Gavin knew he had no reason to be ashamed, except maybe self esteem, issues with which Michael didn’t have. Gavin tried to close his legs, cover himself up, but Michael put a hand on his knee and kept them apart.

A couple weeks ago, Michael and Gavin were in the office, alone. They’d been dancing around each other for a while. Michael read some ridiculous fanfiction and told Gavin about it, how it wrote about them having sex in a clothing store. He couldn’t believe it, and he laughed. Gavin tried to laugh too, but Michael caught how fake it sounded, and saw the look in Gavin’s eyes.

There was a long talk. Michael locked the door and kept everyone else out, prodding and poking Gavin until he confessed the truth, that he’d seen what the fans did and admitted to thinking about it from time to time. Michael listened patiently. When Gavin finished, he shrugged and asked if Gavin wanted to give it a shot, like it was nothing, like they were trying a new hobby and it wouldn’t break their friendship if everything crashed and burned. Gavin agreed anyway.

And it was surprisingly simple, how well they melded in a romantic context. They went out for dinner like they always had, except this time Michael kissed him goodnight. The kiss was warm and delicious and they ended up making out on the Ramsey’s porch, Michael leaving Gavin gasping against the front wall, the door open and Geoff grousing that it was too late to deal with horny teenagers.

The next date came fast. Michael took Gavin out bowling. They both did atrociously, too focused on each other, giving little pecks and stroking hands as they handed bowling balls to each other and made terrible jokes about handling each other’s balls. Michael laughed, but he blushed as he said it. Gavin tried to be as coy, and not worry about the problem on the horizon.

A week later, and they were in bed, naked together and staring, neither willing to break the still, Michael out of bewilderment and Gavin out of fear. He squirmed under the gaze, wishing he could get dressed and leave, even though this was his loft and if he left he would eventually have to come back, where Michael would no doubt be waiting for him. Best to get it over with now.

“It’s weird,” Gavin said, sucking in a deep breath at the sharp look Michael gave him.

“Shut up,” Michael said, which was not what Gavin expected. “It’s different.”

That was … encouraging, coming from someone who pointed out all the flaws in Gavin like they were points to be scored. Maybe Michael deserved more credit than Gavin gave him.

Sitting up straighter, Michael put his other hand on Gavin, forcing both legs wide and crawling between them. Gavin made a small noise, and Michael glared. “Lemme look,” he said, leaning down. Gavin blushed and tried to bury his face in the pillow under his head, hiding away until Michael was done and they could end what little they had before something truly terrible happened and fractured their connection.

Gavin could picture perfectly what Michael looked at while he had himself buried. He spent his entire life studying it, told by his parents that there was nothing wrong with it, he was as normal as anyone else. It helped Gavin for a while, until sex ed class came and he couldn’t ask any of the questions he wanted. He spent so many days locked in the bathroom, staring at his genitals, a collection of skin and nerves that could be best described as tentacles.

They were bright red. Three of them, a main tentacle that was a little bit longer and a little bit thicker than the other two, which sat on either side of it. Whenever Gavin looked at porn and they made mentions of dicks red with arousal, he would look at his own junk and laugh. Nothing could be redder than the cherry tone his had.

Michael brought a hand forth, touching one of the smaller wigglers gently. It writhed and curled around his finger. Gavin gasped at the feeling. It was different, so different, from when he worked himself up and buried his hand between the appendages. He touched himself so rarely and now Michael was touching him, curling his hand in the tentacles, rubbing them to feel the smooth texture and the slickness they dripped through the skin. That was one bonus of the tentacles; Gavin came with his own lubricant. Michael rubbed harder the slicker they got, lips quirking when they wrapped tighter around him.

“Michael,” Gavin begged in a burst of air, releasing the breath he’d been holding with a whine.

“Does this feel good?” Michael rubbed again and Gavin gave a short thrust, just an inch off the bed, enough to get more friction and send a shiver through him.

“What do you think?” Gavin panted, sitting up on his elbows. “Michael, look, I—”

“Yeah, yeah, weird tentacles, hold on.” Michael took his hand away and shook it, wiping the slick on the sheets. “This is a thing, right? Like, did you expect me to have these?”

“Wigglies,” Gavin mumbled, brushing some of the sticky red goo off his hip. “I’m aware you don’t have any, Michael, I can see your dick.” It lay limp against Michael’s legs, the beginnings of his erection gone when he spent a good ten minutes staring at Gavin.

“Pfft.” Michael laughed for the first time since Gavin’s pants came off, teeth flashing briefly. “Fucking wigglies, dude. Fucking, pet name for everything.” He side eyed the tentacles again. “So, like, how does it work?”

Gavin tucked his legs in close, hiding again. “They’re— similar, in a way. I mean. If you touch ‘em, it feels good.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Michael wormed his way between Gavin’s legs again, pushing despite the loud protests, and rubbed with gentle touches that contrasted his rough handling. Gavin gasped and threw his head back. “Anything else I should know?”

“Um.” Gavin tried to think through Michael’s fingers winding around the tentacles, pressing the skin, testing it’s pliancy. “There’s the, uh, slick, and …” Michael moved his hand, gathered the tentacles together and _squeezed_ and Gavin was lost, breathing hard and thrusting into Michael’s hand as best he could without looking like a sex crazed maniac. Although, it _had_ been a while, and the way Michael was working him over was all too good.

“Okay, I got it. Like a dick, but with extra lube.”

That didn’t list the differences by half, but Gavin was too far gone. He’d expected yelling and a fight, not a calm that Michael rarely gave and a good handjob. He could thank the stars above for sending him someone like Michael, with the patience to put up with him.

“Jesus, Gav.” Michael voice broke through the pleasure, and his stroking slowed. “They’re like, curling around my fingers and shit. This is too fucking weird.”

“You said it was different,” Gavin said, pulling away when Michael’s grip got loose.

“Yeah, yeah.” Michael licked the slick off his hand. “At least it doesn’t taste like come.”

“Mm.” Gavin wouldn’t know too well. He did always complain about not tasting sour from sweet. Right now all he cared about was that Michael hadn’t run away screaming, but rather was narrowing his eyes in a daring look, like the slick made him hungry and he wanted to eat more of Gavin. He moved over him, bending down to kiss Gavin and lick at his lips. Gavin complied, letting Michael push him back. Michael pressed his hands down Gavin’s shoulders, sides, against his hips to massage there lightly, one hand trailing back to Gavin’s wigglies. Gavin laughed into Michael’s mouth. “Do you like them?” he asked, anxiety fading as Michael kissed him harder and growled.

“Guess what? Maybe I fucking do.” Michael sucked a hickey into his neck and worked the tentacles, rocking his own dick into Gavin’s leg. The press of his growing erection reminded Gavin that Michael had needs, too, and he was still with Gavin, who was possibly the only person on the planet with wigglies where a cock should be, and just because Gavin didn’t have one didn’t mean he didn’t know how to work one. He wormed his hand under Michael’s body and grabbed at him until he got a solid hold, giving a long, slow stroke.

Michael gasped so loud, his tongue shot into Gavin’s mouth. Gavin pulled back with mock disgust, laughing at Michael, whose eyes had gone half lidded. “Don’t think I forgot you.”

“Fuck,” Michael groaned, pressing harder into Gavin’s hand, leaving the tentacles alone in favor of enjoying the sensation of Gavin squeezing him, thumbing the cock head. He used his other hand to push Michael up until he was on his knees above Gavin, giving him room to really work. Gavin leaned up and kissed Michael, peppering his face and neck, biting his collarbone. Michael thrust against him, little pleas of, “Gavin, Gav,” falling from his lips like blessed rain on a hot summer’s day.

Suddenly he stopped, pushing away from Gavin. “Hold on, Jesus, fuck,” he muttered, yanking himself back. Gavin let him go, eyes wide and curious as Michael sat back and gathered himself. “Fuck,” he said again, his now full erection throbbing. He fisted his hands in the sheets to keep from touching himself, and looked at Gavin, licking his lips. “Can you— is sex, ah, possible?”

“What?” Gavin tilted his head. “You mean penetration?”

“Yeah, can you fuck? Or get fucked? Whichever, I don’t—” Michael closed his eyes, like every moment they weren’t pleasuring each other was a crime.

Gavin hurried to crawl over and kiss him, his hand coming up to stroke Michael’s face. “’M not the biggest,” he whispered, pressing feather light kisses that quickly got heavier. Michael grabbed him around the shoulders and opened his mouth, begging him with his tongue. Gavin obliged, pushing and being pushed as Michael wanted it. “Fucking me,” he gasped between kisses, “would be, ah, easier.”

“Fine, fine,” Michael said, and shoved Gavin back. “Stuff?”

“Drawer.” Gavin took the chance to relax into the sheets, playing absently with his wigglies. They wrapped eagerly around his fingers and refused to let go when he tried to pull away, eager for any contact they could get after being denied so long. Gavin panted, playing with himself while Michael found the lube and condoms. The condoms wouldn’t work for him, and truth be told Gavin wasn’t sure if he could transmit diseases, but better safe than sorry with his male partners. Michael tore one off a strip and tossed it at the end of the bed, more concerned with the bottle of lube, pouring a little pool in the palm of his hand and rubbing it over his fingers. “Good?” he asked, turning back to Gavin.

Gavin nodded, clutching a pillow and bringing his knees up to spread his legs. “Go ahead.”

Michael pressed a finger in, stretching Gavin gently, his other hand on his thigh. It didn’t stay there long, though. As Gavin breathed hard and focused on how it would feel better eventually, Michael stared at the wigglies. They coiled around Gavin’s hand, still twining through them, and dripped so much slick that it slid down to Michael’s hand, mixing with the artificial lube while Michael worked a second finger in.

Curious, Michael bent closer. “Move your hand.” Gavin did as he said, and Michael’s free hand replaced Gavin’s, touching and rubbing the wigglies while his face hovered an inch or so above them. They stretched out, brushing against his chin and lips, the main tentacle squirming to work it’s way inside. Michael laughed and bent closer, opening his mouth and taking Gavin in, adding a third finger at the same time.

Gavin cursed, hips thrusting and fist pounding the mattress. Whether the wigglies were of normal size for what they were, he wouldn’t know, but they were small compared to a human penis and Michael took the main one easily, tongue swirling around its edges and flicking the tip. Combined with the feeling of being stretched and prepared, Gavin’s senses were on overload. He whined, fire lighting up from his groin to spread through his body. His right hand flew up in an attempt to grab Michael’s hair, missing by a mile and clipping his ear. Michael grunted and glared at Gavin, though his kept his mouth on him. “Sorry,” Gavin tried to say, the word cutting into a moan as Michael pressed his tongue hard against the tip of his tentacle.

He didn’t keep the onslaught up. A few minutes of sucking Gavin off and stretching him, and Michael deemed Gavin ready, pulling his mouth off as he took his fingers away and searched for the condom. He opened it quickly and slid it on, adding lube to his covered cock. Gavin watched, wigglies practically flailing at the loss. He moved to touch them, to give himself some relief.

“Uh uh.” Michael smiled and snatched Gavin’s hand, pushing it back to the sheets. “No touching.”

Gavin keened, but listened, fingers clenched and nails biting into his palm. Michael moved over him and took hold of both thighs, keeping him open. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Gavin breathed, canting his hips up. Michael laughed again and pushed Gavin’s legs up, pressing to his entrance. Gavin gasped, the stretch bigger than he remembered. Michael moved slow and watched his face carefully, though his attention diverted every few seconds at the feeling of Gavin’s tentacles rubbing his stomach, covering it in their slick. The main one bent back, trying to grab Michael’s cock before it went in. Michael brushed it off, enjoying the hitch in Gavin’s breath at the touch.

Fully seated and encased in Gavin’s heat, Michael paused to take in the scene. Gavin was splayed beneath him, cheeks flushed and wrigglers pushing at any part of Michael they could reach. “Can you— do you control them?” he managed, brain short circuiting at the little squeeze around his cock that Gavin gave.

“A little.” Gavin closed his eyes and squeezed Michael again for the sake of his melodic groan, a sound he knew he could get addicted to. “It’s like, an independent muscle. Need to, ah,” Gavin tossed his head back in the pillows again. Michael had thrust shallowly to get back at him for the squeezing. “Concentrate,” Gavin continued, voice faltering. “Need to focus, to make ‘em do anything.”

“Ha.” Michael gave another shallow thrust. “You okay?”

“Fucking _move_ ,” Gavin begged, lifting his hips. Michael did as told, holding tighter to Gavin’s hips and leaning closer to let the tentacles rub themselves on his stomach. He gave a few small thrusts, careful about the power and movement, until Gavin begged him again and he smirked.

The sound of skin slapping and breath leaking from open mouths filled their ears, a symphony of lust and human weakness. Gavin grabbed at Michael’s back, scratching and pulling him closer. His legs wound around him and trapped him there, not that Michael minded. He tried to kiss Gavin a few times as he pounded into his body, but his lips were uncoordinated and rather than kiss, they scraped their lips over each other’s faces, leaving little trails of saliva over cheeks and jaws. Michael pressed in, filling Gavin deep, and worked his neck over again, on the side he hadn’t yet had a chance to pay attention to.

The wigglies were tensing now, pressing Michael’s stomach, dripping so much that Michael almost lost his grip on Gavin. “Fuck— hang on.” He slowed and stopped, kissing Gavin’s neck a couple more times and pulling back to look him in the eyes. “You’re fucking dripping everywhere.”

“Ah, can’t help it.” Gavin grinned sheepishly.

Michael considered him a moment, and said, “Hold still,” with a hand on Gavin’s stomach. He pulled out, drawing a disappointed whine from Gavin. “Shut up,” Michael told him curtly, grabbing him around the waist again and flipping Gavin before he could know what Michael was doing. With Gavin on his belly, and without his wigglies in the way, Michael could get a better hold. He pulled Gavin to his knees and brought his torso up so they were back to chest, and whispered in his ear, “Is this good?”

“Y-Yeah,” Gavin sputtered, already lost in the feeling of Michael sliding in him again, stretching him. And then Michael’s hand came down to stroke his tentacles and he fucking lost himself, breathing hard and thrusting, back onto Michael and then into his hands, the rhythm solid and so good he could cry.

Michael was panting too, chin tucked over his shoulder and breath tickling Gavin’s neck. His free hand had his hip tight but he let Gavin move, let him fuck himself on Michael’s cock while he touched him. “You’re so good, Gavin,” he said, tightening his grip on the wigglies. They wrapped around his fingers, the slide and the pressure affecting Michael as much as Gavin. Seeing his boy come undone under his own power had Michael moving faster, harder, struggling to get them both over the edge.

Gavin’s hands flew to Michael’s, urging him in direction and strength. His head lay back, mouth open. He could feel himself getting close, and judging by the way Michael’s fingers tensed around him, he was too. Gavin squeezed around Michael like before, forcing a gasp from him, and he pressed back as much as he could. “Come on, Michael,” he urged. “Come on, boy.”

“Fuck— Gavin!” Michael’s thrusts lost their coordination, and a few seconds later he stilled, his moan muffled against Gavin’s neck as he filled him. Gavin kept moving, pushing himself into Michael’s hand until Michael remembered him and stroked again, working him until Gavin came too, slick spilling over his fingers and on the bed.

They stayed that way out of sheer lack of motivation to move. Michael’s hand dropped from Gavin’s tentacles, slapping wet against his thigh. Gavin grinned and took it, licking up his own essence. Michael made a noise, nose pressing on Gavin’s shoulder. He pulled out, finally, and used what little energy he had left to toss the condom. Gavin collapsed on the bed when Michael got up, kicking the filthy sheets away and wiping sweat from his brow. He couldn’t remember the last time he had sex like that. Well, all right, he could, because it wasn’t just anyone who he let see himself completely like he had Michael, but it still blew him away and had him fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Hey, Gav.” Michael had returned, and crawled in beside him, the pillow making a poofing noise when Michael fell onto it. “Are you okay?”

Gavin laughed, tired. “Oh, Michael.” He turned over on his side to look at him. “I have never been better. I—” He hesitated, searching Michael’s face for any hostility. All he found was content and exhaustion. “I thought you might run away.”

“What?” Michael sat up a little, an eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” Gavin gestured at his crotch.

Michael lost the incredulous look and replaced it with disbelief and a quiet snort. “Oh, that. I dunno, man.” He settled himself back on the pillow. “It might be the fucking weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, but … it’s you.” Michael shuffled closer, putting a hand on Gavin’s hip. “I wouldn’t be an asshole to you for something like that. Besides.” His lips quirked in a coy grin. “They’re pretty fucking great. Any chance I can get you to fuck me with them next time?”

Gavin stared at Michael a moment, and laughed again. “I doubt it, but we can try.”

“Awesome.” Michael used the grip he already had to tug Gavin in and tuck against his neck. “I got tons of questions,” he muttered, yawning the last few words.

Gavin put both arms around Michael and tangled their legs together. His wigglies lazily rubbed Michael’s skin, playing with his dick. Michael grunted and shifted away. Gavin did his best to will the muscles to stillness, though they kept twitching and rubbing Michael’s legs and stomach. “I’ll answer them tomorrow,” Gavin said, letting out his own yawn. “Sleep now.”

“Mm.” Michael’s thumb rubbed circles on Gavin’s hip for a few minutes, soothing them both as they drifted, until he was too tired and he settled for leaning up to give Gavin one last kiss on the cheek, eyes closed when he laid his head back down.

All in all, Gavin’s fears were unfounded. He never intended for Michael to find out about his wigglies. But Michael never so much as insulted Gavin about them. And if he were really that interested, Gavin looked forward to teaching him all the different ways their parts could play together.  


End file.
